( just a little missionary ) our muses are having romantic sex in the missionary position. (if you waaant it.)
JUST FUCKING AROUND - tentatively accepting // @jainenkept β§
The night was soft and calm, the warm light of a steadily dying fire illuminating the walls of Elyse's quarters, bathing them in somber tones. She lounged comfortably upon her bed, Ignatius spread languidly beside her. Between both waking and sleeping nightmares, it was rare for Elyse to have a peaceful night; she didn't want to waste the opportunity to be close with him. Intimacy both thrilled and frightened her - a journey shrouded in mystery and intrigue, and there was no one sheβd rather embark upon it with than him.
She started with what was comfortable, what was familiar: poetry. It was a passion of hers that she desperately wanted to share with him. The poetry of others allowed her to express all the things she couldnβt say - her own works allowed her the bravery to, hopefully, show Ignatius just how much she loved him. The depths of her love for him threatened to drown her at any moment, but in this case, Elyse wasnβt afraid to sink.
At last, she shared a poem written especially for him - a work of literature that Elyse poured her heart and soul into. She may as well have written the words in her own blood. Her voice wavered as she spoke, emerald eyes sliding from the pages before her to his face every other moment. Her body was tense with anxiety, doubt gnawing at the corners of her mind. He must hate it, she worried. As the final word fell from her mouth she sucked in a breath, held it in her lungs as she patiently waited for his response.
That breath was let out in a great huff as Ignatius moved closer, his lips meeting hers rather than spilling any dissatisfaction. Elyse had opened herself to him, mind and soul; she bore the most intimate parts of herself for him to do with as he pleased. A soft whimper escaped from her as a new need made itself known in her very core. She had surrendered most of herself to him already, all that was left was physical intimacy. The prospect of it made her shiver in sweet anticipation.
Before long, they were devoid of all clothing, Ignatius positioned above Elyse on the bed. She couldnβt help but look at him with eyes filled with wonder and awe as her body thrummed with carnal need. The new sensation was both intoxicating and demanding - Elyseβs body bowed and arched up into his, desperate for the friction of skin on skin. The soft chuckle that slipped from Ignatiusβs lips only encouraged her further, emboldened her resolve. Slowly his hands found her skin, his touch light and tentative at first, before finding confidence of their own.
As his hands explored the expanse of her body, Ignatius's gentle touches left trails of fire across Elyse's skin. It was such sweet agony, a torture her body craved - she'd burn for him for an eternity. She could scarcely keep her own hands from roaming across his skin. Oh how she wanted to memorize the map of his body; she needed to commit him to memory.
Β β Ignatiusβ¦ please. β
Her lower lip was caught between her teeth as another whine escaped her. Ignatius didnβt make her wait for long - he slowly pressed himself into her and stilled to let her adjust to him. The action drew a cry from Elyse and her nails dug into the skin of his back. Head was thrown back at the brief moment of pain, sharp and sudden; eventually that pain melted from her and was transformed into pure bliss. This was a euphoria that was completely foreign to her but oh maker was it divine.
His name fell from her lips like a prayer repeated as he began rocking his hips into hers, his thrusts slow and languid. The length of him stretched and filled her fully; it sent her to the precipice of pain and pleasure and held her there. She greedily met his motions with her own enthusiasm as she matched his pace and desperately countered his strokes with her own. Elyse was slowly losing herself to the haze of her lust - Ignatius was hitting just the right spot to make stars bloom behind her eyelids, a constellation of pleasure designed solely for her. The intensity of it all nearly brought tears to her eyes.
Trembling fingers slid into his pale hair as she pulled his face down to hers. She captured his lips with hers hungrily, tongue darting out to sweep across his lower lip - she enticed him for more. Please give her more. She clenched around him and drew from him a low groan, coupled by the whisper of her name. That was almost enough to push her over the edge - almost. She wasnβt ready to give up this feeling. But love and lust swirled together to make a heady concoction, clouding her head and her heart. Couple that with just how Ignatius was looking at her ? It was enough to ruin her.
She came with a cry as she tumbled further and further into the abyss of her own pleasure.
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ππππ i am placing π gold star stickers π all over your blog. π ππ helena, hoo, what a GAL. ππ breathtaking portrayal! π one for the books! πππππ
πππππππππππππ [GRABS YOU] πππ HEY FEL. ππππππ haleir is a GIFT π unto the masses. πππππ he is VERY π near and dear π to my π heart. ππ THANK YOU ππ SO MUCH π for sharing him ππππ with me!! π (with all of us.) πππππππππππ i threw in some gold stars. you deserve them. πππππππ
Send π if you like my portrayal | @jainenkept
alkdfjkdasj SQUEAKY TOY NOISES <3333
Thank YOU for sharing Ignatius and all your muses, even if Hal and I might be UH. A TAD BIASED BY THIS POINT ~ When I say I'm gonna put these two in a JAR and RATTLE IT please know I mean it in the best way possible;; I love your writing and your takes on DA lore sO much; I don't know how I got so blessed in the mutuals department.
ππππ nothing but quality content ππ from vhenann.tumblr.com! π stunning! π five stars! πππ a treat to have on the dash! π a delight! πππππ
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
β Live Streamingβ Interactive Chatβ Private Showsβ HD Qualityβ Free Actions
Free to watch β’ No registration required β’ HD streaming
"Maybe I am~." He sing-songs, despite Ignatius' shirt being the only thing he's wearing besides a criminal smile. It swims on him; well-loved, soft linen draping to expose a graceful shoulder and beneath that, a taste of small breast before falling to pool deliciously around his generous hips.
"Maybe I grew tired of waiting for someone to finish meeting with his advisors." He tuts, but there's no venom in it. He's in a rare mood; something about being in Ignatius' company again fuels that latent, playful spark in him.
"What are you going to do about it? Take it off me~?"
βΒ i keep collecting spiderwebs on my face and now iβm just sort of immune to them. iβm just letting them accumulate.Β β
"Gross."
She makes a face at her fellow Warden, her eyes searching over his face for the glint of light off the webs, but she doesn't really want to see them. Spiderwebs and werewolves seem to be this forest's main exports, and though Inara thinks for a fraction of a moment that perhaps his is the better strategy rather than frantically banging her fingers all over her helmet every few minutes, but the thought of leaving them there makes her shudder.
"That came out a spider's butt," she says like a schoolgirl in a huff.
Then she pauses, and squints as she thinks about how little she knows about spiders.
"Does it... come out their butts?"
@jainenkept | send π if your muse thinks mine is attractive
LISTEN. Haleir may play it cool on the outside, but inside? He's SWOONING. πβοΈπ He does seem to go for the fiery ones and Ignatius is no exception~
